Was there any grass beneath her now? Was this still her Wuling Forbidden Garden?
At this moment, the ground she saw and touched was cold as iron, covered in several bizarre patterns that formed a hideous mural of demons and countless ghosts. Yet through those patterns, she could still see her own reflection upon it.
This was an enormous mirror, its edges nowhere in sight. Light gathered across its surface—not particularly bright, yet cold as frost. It made her instinctively narrow her eyes, only for her eyes to fly wide open the next instant under a surge of agonizing pain.
Se Yun, who had just pushed herself up, collapsed again. Her cheek struck the icy, hard mirror, but that tiny pain was utterly drowned out, not worth mentioning.
She convulsed violently. Seduction, beauty—none of it meant anything anymore. She felt as though a shapeless hand had plunged straight into her skull, churning her brains, boring into her marrow, and sucking with brutal force before finally seizing something and wrenching it out.
It was like having every blood vessel in her body torn out at once. The pain pierced her very bones and dealt a grievous blow to her soul. In an instant, it shattered Se Yun's mental defenses. She screamed shrilly and tried to smash her head against the ground, but she no longer had an ounce of strength. She could only convulse, convulse, and convulse again, like a dying caterpillar.
Then, she "floated" upward.
The pain seemed to ease somewhat, but Se Yun was already at death's door. She forced her eyes open and looked down. The cold mirror reflected her figure, but behind her shoulder was clearly a nearly insubstantial blood-red shadow, its "hands" stretched out to lightly embrace her waist.
The blood shadow's features were blurred, yet